


I hate my roommate (or maybe I don't?)

by little_cheshire_fandom_cat



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Roommates, X-Men Origins Gambit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:17:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_cheshire_fandom_cat/pseuds/little_cheshire_fandom_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro's got a new roommate and doesn't know how to deal with him at all. He's obnoxious and infuriating and Pietro would like to kill him more often than not. But maybe, if you actually talk to someone, they turn out to be much nicer than you ever thought was possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction for this fandom and I never read any actual comics in my whole life, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. I don't own any of the characters unless stated otherwise (OCs, though I don't expect to use any). English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes. Feel free to correct me. I think that's all, so just enjoy it!

Pietro’s life was a bloody misery! His (former) best friend turned out to be the worst person of the year and his new roommate had no sense of shame whatsoever.  
Right now Pietro was standing in front of his door contemplating where to go at half past one in the morning, because anything was better than going back in where – what was his name again? – anyway, the French guy that was assigned to his room, screwed one person after another.

Well, looked like he would spend the night in the campus library. Again. At this rate he might actually get an excellent degree with all his extra study time. To be fair, normal people would call it sleeping time, but since when had anything in his life ever been normal?

He could also go back to his room, interrupt what he really didn’t want to know anything at all about and speak up for himself and his need to sleep from time to time. But knowing himself he’d probably run off before what’s-his-name-the-French-guy would even be able to consider opening the door. Not that he would. _God, could my life get any worse? ___

The librarian didn’t pay him any attention when he walked by her. She was busy sleeping, just like Pietro should do, too. At this particular moment he envied her quite a lot.

The university’s library never closed, so there wasn’t really any problem with him being here. He got himself a coffee from the machine, took a random book from the business section and sat down in front of a computer that was in a nice and quiet corner. The coffee wasn’t that good, but he didn’t have money for anything else considering he hadn’t been in his room for three whole days, because every time he did as much as approach the door he heard heated noises and the creak of his roommates bed coming from the inside. _How did he even manage to have that much sex in such a short time? Maybe he was a prostitute. How else could you get that many people into your bed? _Those were Pietro’s last thoughts before exhaustion caught up with him and he drifted off into sleep.__


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Pietro woke with a pounding headache. He felt like he was starving, too, and because he spent his last money on a rather disappointing cup of coffee he had no other option than to go to his room and get everything he needed, hopefully without any disturbance. He was tired enough to actually not care too much about anything so he didn’t even think about it when he opened the door to the room he shared with the most obnoxious and annoying sex-addict imaginable.

So he went inside only slightly positively surprised to find his roommate _alone_ in his bed _and_ with sweatpants on. And there Pietro thought the other man only owned one set of clothes which he only ever wore for occasions like getting from one bed into the next, but _no_ , apparently he even slept every once in a while, all by himself. Indeed that would give him some resemblance with an actual human being! He had to say he was impressed.

After that short observation he grabbed some painkillers, went to the bathroom to get some water and took about three pills at once. He didn’t count. After the worst pain was gone he decided to take a shower. One look in the mirror told him he desperately needed it. His skin itched with dry sweat and dust from being outside for such a long time. After what must have been an hour under the hot stream of water, having washed his hair four times, he dried himself with a towel from the windowsill. How that was still there and not taken by some fling of R-… he really needed to learn his name, this was getting ridiculous. Anyway, it was a mystery to him that his towel had survived the last few days and stayed in its designated spot. The only thing left to do was brush his teeth. His mouth probably smelled like something died inside it. It tasted even worse. After that was done he left the bathroom, feeling thoroughly clean and far less irritable than earlier that morning.

Food was his next priority. The only eatable things in his private stock in his wardrobe were cookies. Pietro tended to become hyper from too many sweets, but seriously he had other stuff to worry about right now. So the cookies it would be. _God_ , how he’d missed food! He meant to leave the room again as quickly as possible to get some work done (and avoid him). Or he could talk to … Oh, you know who! But when he went to wake him up something stopped him. Suddenly Pietro couldn’t imagine anyone who had such an innocent face could cause him such agony. He didn’t like to admit it, but this guy was beautiful! For some reason he didn’t think it weird when he decided that maybe watching that face a little while longer before he had to destroy this perfect image in front of him with some nasty words was a good choice. He lay down on his own bed slowly sliding underneath the blanket. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but when he did his last conscious thought was that this man would break his heart one day. But for some reason his dreams showed him another version of possible events. Something nice. A spark of hope for his heart.

*****

Remy could feel his roommate staring at him. Not that that’s what woke him up. The sound of the running shower had. Once he realised who must be in it he instantly felt uneasy, the need to run away from the upcoming argument strong. But wasn’t that exactly what brought him here? The constant need to run, the inability to face any problems? He didn’t dare make a sound, not because of his intentions to deal with his roommate’s anger, but so he wouldn't draw any attention to himself. Maybe, if he waited long enough all his problems would vanish into thin air. So pretending to be asleep was what he would do. Not that he struggled with that. He was a great pretender. He was so good at pretending he could sometimes convince himself that things were this way or the other when really they weren’t. The only thing he couldn’t bring himself to believe was that he was alright. That he was not a failure.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t even realise his roommate hadn’t tried to wake him. In fact he seemed to try and be extra quiet as to _not_ wake him. This was strange. Also the staring had stopped and Remy soon realised why. Judging by his even breathing he had fallen asleep, poor guy. Probably hadn’t slept in a proper bed for days. He should have been nicer to him. But something always stopped him. He loved to provoke people. He couldn’t stop himself. A small smile spread across his face. His face had been hilarious the first day, walking in on Remy having sex with some hippie girl from the environmental protection. But his regret wiped the smile off his face. The only thing he was truly good at was irritating others and generally being a waste of space. One great disappointment.

After what felt like an eternity he opened his eyes carefully. So he hadn’t been mistaken. His roommate was asleep, not just pretending to be like Remy had been. This boy was no pretender. He could see it in the way he clutched the blanket, so _upset_. The fact that he had put away his clothes so neatly so no one would fall over them even though he must have been furious. He must have been so angry but still wouldn’t do anything to pay Remy back. Yet. Maybe he wasn’t gentle, simply tired. Remy kept analysing him, but soon found himself lost in the sight he was offered. He shook himself out of it once he realised what he was doing.

_I need a shower!_ , he decided. Once that was done he started cleaning the room as quietly as he could with only a towel wrapped around his hips. He put all his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, readjusted his work books, put his pens into a pen holder, put all the rubbish in the bin and straightened his blanket. Just as he was about to grab some clothes from his wardrobe he heard sheets rustling behind him. He froze for a second, but then decided an argument with clothes on would be better than one without.


	3. Space Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just re-discovered this story and I tried to keep it going because I'm still in love with this pairing. I know it's been a year and all, but here's a new chapter. If anyone has any suggestions as to where they'd like this story to go feel free to tell me.  
> I honestly don't even know what this is, but I tried.

Pietro usually slept like a log so he wasn’t sure what exactly had woken him up. One quick survey of the room gave him the answer to that though. His roommate. He still felt far too sleepy to be irritated by his presence, however there was one question he desperately needed answered.

“What’s your name again?” He wasn’t even phased by the near-nakedness of the guy and how glorious he looked when his back muscles relaxed and he elegantly swung around. Nope, Pietro was and would remain for another few minutes too drowsy to care.

“Remy.” The dumbfounded reply and the matching facial expression shook him out of his mental haze a little. In an effort to focus he fixed his gaze on a band shirt in the wardrobe behind Remy.

“Remy.” He’d never heard that name before. He tried it, the way it felt, the slight accent to it, and decided he liked it.

However, Remy himself was now thoroughly confused. Pietro wasn’t shouting at him or cursing or throwing his alarm clock at him, he didn’t even seem angry. To be honest, Remy was starting to freak a little. This was creepy. In lack of any better ideas he played along for now. In a more hesitant tone than he would have liked he muttered, “Yes, that’s my name.”

His frown made Pietro chuckle. For a second he marveled at his own patience, because usually he hated people telling him what he already knew and was just generally an easily irritable, quite snappy person. But not today it seemed. How very curious.

“Yeah, anyway,” Pietro interrupted his own train of thought, “If you could not have an orgy in here all day everyday that’d be splendid because I’m not really into the whole voyeurism thing, so yeah… Keep it down a little, please.” Having said everything he felt needed saying he got up and pushed past Remy to get to the wardrobe himself. They’d have to get a second one. This one was practically spilling over with Remy’s clothes alone.

“That’s all?” Remy’s brain still hadn’t caught up to the current development of the whole situation. His face told as much even though Pietro was pretty sure he wasn’t aware of that.

“Well, if you want a confrontation that can be arranged, too, but I honestly don’t feel like it at all right now. So how about we start over new?” He had to admit that even to himself that sounded odd. Of course he was quick-tempered, had been all his life, but this was way out of character even for him. He didn’t bother pondering on it for too long, though. His mind was a little sluggish at the moment anyway. He tried to think of a reason for this but couldn’t think of anything –

Oh. The cookies! Oh damn it! Space cookies they’d been. He’d pinched them from his ex best friend after their final fight. And yes, he was petty like that.

A rather loud snap of Remy’s fingers (right in front of his face; he’s not blind, thank you very much) brought him back to reality. “Hello? Somebody home? Seriously, man, this is creepy! Are you – Are you alright?” If his brain had worked properly Pietro might have been able to make out the concern in Remy’s voice.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. After staring at a pink shirt for way too long he added, “I think I might be high,” before collapsing on the carpet in a giggling heap.

Remy took in the scene in a mix of terror and amused disbelief and it took him a few seconds before he bent down to pick up Pietro by the waist. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.”

However, Pietro seemed to have different plans. Struggling out of Remy’s grip and falling back down immediately with only a small yelp, he exclaimed, “But I don’t want to! I’m hungry. I want sweets not sleep. Do you have sweets? You know, there’s that really amazing sweets shop at the other end of campus. They have twenty different flavours of liquorice.”

Amusing as it would be to watch him try and make his way to whatever shop he’d been talking about in barely half the amount of clothing that would be appropriate in public Remy decided to put an end to Pietro’s journey rather abruptly, pulling Pietro away from the door by the collar of his shirt. “You’re not going anywhere in that state. Now stop struggling, you’ll thank me once you’re sober again.” Without further ado he threw him over his shoulder, walked the few steps back to Pietro’s bed and dropped him unceremoniously, but gentle enough so he wouldn’t get hurt.

Pietro yelped again, but stayed put. His head lolled to the side, away from Remy, and he fixed his gaze on something outside. Remy couldn’t see it from where he was still standing, but it must’ve been mesmerizing for Pietro. Well… At least in his current condition.

When Remy turned away he felt something tug at the hem of his shirt. Turning back around, he was faced with the cutest puppy dog eyes he’d seen in his entire life. Pietro mumbled something, but he couldn’t make out anything that would have made sense. However, what he did understand was the weak layer of desperation in Pietro’s voice and his hand still clutching to the fabric of Remy’s top, pulling ever so slightly, so he motioned for him to scoot over before lying down next to him. He then pulled Pietro closer so his head was on Remy’s shoulder and his arm across his chest, Remy’s hand petting his hair until his breathing slowed down and he started to snore softly.

Remy found himself smiling down fondly at him.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what this is, but I didn't know how to improve it, so please don't hate me.  
> As always, you're (obviously) welcome to leave suggestions or just normal comments/kudos.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, though I have to say I'm personally not very pleased with it.

Remy pondered on whether he should get up or not. He wasn’t sure a sober Pietro would take the situation well, especially once he found out about Remy being… well, not straight at least. He didn’t like labels, but he was open to basically any gender. Love and sex alike remain just that, no matter between whom. But he wasn’t naïve enough to believe everyone thought the same way. Not that he cared about other people’s opinion on the topic, he would just prefer to keep Pietro as his roommate.

Just as he decided to stay put Pietro’s snoring ended and he stretched out contently like Oliver had when he and his brothers were still living with Remy instead of Anne-Marie.

Apparently he had voiced that without noticing, because Pietro lifted his head a little. “Who is Oliver?”

“Why? Jealous?” The grumble that followed his inquisition made him think that he might _actually_ be jealous. Remy chuckled to himself. “Oliver’s my cat. One of three to be precise. But they’re living with a friend of mine at the moment.”

“You have cats?” Pietro would cut his tongue off rather than admit that Remy had a nice voice, so he settled on getting him to talk about his pets. In the past it had proven to be an efficient way of keeping a conversation going with minimum effort on his part. Remy didn’t disappoint.

Not listening to one word he was saying, Pietro lay there on top of this near stranger’s chest, finally able to shut off his stupid brain that never stopped running, constantly finding new problems to worry about. No, right now his few remaining thoughts were filled with kittens and toe beans and a lovely voice that belonged to an even better body and…

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go there.

Abruptly sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to will the upcoming blush away. “What time is it?”

Pietro felt the mattress shift a little and then Remy yawned, “ten-thirty”.

He was about to say he had classes this morning, but then it dawned on him that he had no clue what day it was. Surely, it couldn’t be the weekend yet?

As subtly as possible he leaned his body to the side so he could reach his phone and at the same time block Remy’s view. Just as he was grazing it with his fingers, Remy got up and he froze.

Walking past him to the bathrooms Remy said, “It’s Saturday, by the way, and seeing as you have no classes during the weekend and - no offense - probably no other plan’s for today, how about breakfast at Marie’s?” Not waiting for his answer, he let the door fall shut behind him.

“How do you know I don’t have any classes on Saturday?,” Pietro asked confused.

Remy’s head re-appeared at the bathroom door. “You told me on my first day.”

Pietro gave him a disbelieving look. “And you remember that? I thought you didn’t even remember I lived here!” Whoop, there it was. Great, now it was hanging in the air like these spider webs that fly around every autumn that without miss always end up in your face.

A frown formed on Remy’s features. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I must be the most terrible roommate you had so far and the only thing still going for me is that I can cook, but considering that we don’t have a kitchen around here, I can’t even prove it. I will make it up to you, though. If you let me, that is. Also, you still didn’t answer my question.”

He stared at him for a long moment and Remy could see the wheels turn in his head, either trying to decide what to do with him or wracking his brain for the question he had been asked. For some reason he had the feeling it was the latter. Then, Pietro gave proof of his suspicion by the look of realization taking over his face.

However, said young man wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Plus, if he did, was it as friends? Or was it maybe more than that? And most importantly, did he want it to be? Remy was… well, let’s just say he had a feeling he would get burned eventually, figuratively speaking. But as his father had reminded him on every opportunity he had, curiosity killed the cat and to be honest Pietro was not exactly what most would call in control of one’s impulses.

Even so, there was no shame in testing the waters first. In the most innocent tone he could muster, he asked, “Just us or is anyone else coming, too?”

Remy studied his face for a second. Then a smirk stretched over his face. “Why it’s just us, of course.” Winking at Pietro he closed the door once again.

It would not have been an overstatement to say that Remy’s way of answering left him in a bit of a state of shock. What the heck was that wink for? He ran a hand over his face in an attempt to regain his composure.

Finally getting up too, he threw on the clothes nearest to him and walked over to the mirror to take a look at his hair. As expected it looked like a bird’s nest, but having years of experience in the department of “how to style your hair in 52 simple steps so you don’t look like you’ve lived in the wild for 18 years” definitely paid off in moments like these. Within seven minutes he was done and, safe for brushing his teeth, ready to go. Lucky for him, Remy didn’t take very long either so he was able to slip into the bathroom rather quickly after getting his hair under control.

He still wasn’t sure why he was going along with this, but Remy was right, he had nothing better to do. He had finished all the coursework before the whole cookie incident and the book analysis for his English course was due in seven weeks.

Also, he could use a friend.


End file.
